


our lives, they rearrange

by winterpolis



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, i haven't written zutara in so long, i'm a bundle of nerves, momo is a nuisance and a devious little thing, oh well i hope it turns out ok, someone send help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26626642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterpolis/pseuds/winterpolis
Summary: The path to redemption often presents itself unexpectedly and when it is least desired. Just ask Zuko—his began with a baby. Well, a baby and a lemur if he’s honest, and not in that order, but those are just technicalities.—; Or, it’s another Katara runs into Zuko in the Lower Ring in S2 and although they’re mighty suspicious of each other at first, curiosity and chemistry eventually win out and everything is up in the air, but throw in a baby to the mix for a twist.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 107
Kudos: 144





	1. the lemur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _*shyly proffers this fic to the rest of the fandom*_  
>   
>  hi everyone! hope you're all doing well <3
> 
> a little disclaimer off the bat, i haven't written zutara in years and i'm in the midst of rewatching the show still, so i'm a bit nervous about posting this up, heh. i've had the bare bones of this plot running in my head for months now, and i've finally gotten around to writing it after numerous plot reworks and drafts. i eventually settled on this trope as the backdrop for my main muse (which is a wartime zutara bonding, hashing it out, and falling in love after coming into the care of a baby together + zuko redeeming himself and joining the gaang), after reading these absolute delights by [pearlynn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229203/chapters/35322519) and [laadychat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24386473/chapters/58819543). if you haven't read them yet, i highly recommend you do!
> 
> anyway, some notes on the fic itself: i've expanded the timeline to a few years instead of just a few months because honestly, there's no way aang could've mastered the three other elements in that short time span, avatar or not. their ages are around two years older than canon, so zuko and sokka are 18, katara is 16, and toph and aang are 14. at the moment, i've set my sights on the story ending until shortly before zuko officially joins the gaang in this au, so i'm not quite sure whether this will be a complete canon divergence or not. i do have ideas for post-war installments in this universe already in the works, though, ironically enough.
> 
> the title of the fic is from gavin james' "i don't know why". give it a listen and have some feels with me.
> 
> anyway, i've babbled enough so i'll stop here. for now. or whatever.

It was all Momo’s fault.

If someone had told Katara this morning that bringing Momo to the market with her would only result in her chasing him past countless stalls in his quest for the next delicious-looking treat to steal, she would have left him frozen to the kitchen table before heading out with no regrets. As it was, the spirits had neglected to inform her of such, and she was left panting and winded after chasing the lemur—with a full and heavy basket poised at her hip, no less—for the fifth time since they entered the bustling Lower Ring market.

That was how she found herself in the middle of a stare-down with the lemur, who had finally stopped at an empty kiosk with his latest steal clutched between both paws quite protectively.

Katara set the basket on the ground, her hands bracing on her knees as she took huge gulps of air. It seemed that three months of relative relaxation in the Upper Ring had put her slightly out of shape.

“Momo,” she wheezed, “listen to me.”

His big eyes stared unblinkingly back at her, and he tilted his head to the side as if to say, _I’m listening, Waterbender_.

Taking a final breath of relief, she leveled her most harrowing glare at Momo, a finger pointed sternly at him. “Put the mooncake down and stop making me chase you, or so help me La, I will freeze you to this basket until we get home.”

As soon as the words left her lips, Katara groaned. Why hadn’t she thought of it earlier?

It seemed that the threat had worked its way through Momo’s pea-sized brain— _of course it was pea-sized, how else would he have the one-track mind for food that he did if it were any bigger?—_ at the same speed the realization had struck her, because no sooner had she made the move to uncork her waterskin than he leapt into the air with a piercing screech.

Katara’s jaw dropped as the mooncake hit her square on the forehead in the wake of his departure. “Momo!” She was about to lose it, but Tui and La, she really was. “You damned lemur, get back here!”

Cursing the day Aang adopted the lemur into their ragtag group, she picked up her basket and began the chase again.

“I swear to the spirits above I will _skin_ you within an inch of your life!”

Market goers stared and gasped at her threats as she breezed past them, but she paid them no mind. Instead, she pumped her legs harder and resisted the urge to water whip Momo down. It wouldn’t do to draw that much attention in the ringed city of Ba Sing Se, especially if she and her friends’ growing suspicions were to be proven correct.

Momo screeched again, as if to taunt, _I’d like to see you try!_

Katara growled and barely managed to dodge a man patting his cabbages affectionately. “I’m giving you one more chance, Momo! One more!”

For her troubles, she only received a flying pebble to the nose.

Letting out a war cry, Katara was just about to send a painful blast of water at the current object of her torment when he suddenly ducked in between two awnings and out of her sight.

Pushing past the ambling family in front of her, Katara’s eyes whipped about the spice stalls surrounding her before settling on a ball of white perched on a young man’s head.

It seemed that Momo had found a new victim, and with his paws digging into the man’s forehead and his tail wrapped tightly around his eyes, the man didn’t seem too happy.

The lemur, on the other hand, only looked back at Katara triumphantly— _was that a smile?!_

“What the hell!”

“Oh Tui, I’m so—”

“Get this flying monkey off me!”

The apology died on Katara’s lips as her blood ran cold. _I know that voice_.

Her limbs locking in fear, she watched as the man pulled his hand out of the box of spices he had been carding through in favor of swatting and tugging at Momo.

With an indignant screech, the lemur released his victim and flew to perch on Katara’s shoulder.

 _Oh sure,_ now _he wanted to cooperate_.

Katara had but a moment to flick Momo in the back of his frustrating little head before the man turned around and her heart began to beat erratically at the sight of the scarred Prince. He may have ditched the silly phoenix tail that did him no good and traded his stuffy Fire Nation armor for duller Earth Kingdom garb, but she would know that scar and that voice anywhere.

_It couldn’t be. We haven’t seen him in half a year! Why is he here? How did he find us? Is he—_

“Katara?!”

 _Well. At least it wasn’t peasant this time_.

Inner monologue successfully quelled, she watched Zuko’s eyes widen and nostrils flare before a scowl overtook his features, his eyes glinting with something not quite dangerous but not completely harmless either. Narrowing her own eyes, she made to reach for her waterskin.

Before her fingers could graze the cap, however, the merchant of the stall Zuko was rifling through broke the tension.

“Is something the matter, Lee?”

Surprised at the name, Katara’s eyes widened.

_Lee? What in La’s name?_

Zuko startled out of his fixation on her and forced himself to relax, drawing his shoulders back and taking a deep breath. His eyes never left hers.

“No, Shyu, just…an old friend I didn’t expect to run into, here of all places.”

Katara flinched slightly at his words but reluctantly dropped her hand. She didn’t miss the subtle message her enemy tried to get across, but she frowned in displeasure. Her heartbeat had slowed somewhat, but the adrenaline from chasing Momo and discovering the Prince in the same city she and her friends were in didn’t ebb away.

 _One wrong step and I’ll have him frozen faster than he can spout his rising with the sun crap_.

Shyu raised a graying brow at her before sighing. Whatever he had just witnessed, he wanted no part of. Clearly, Lee and this lemur-toting woman were not friends. But whatever, kids these days had weird ways of hooking up.

“Did you still want the saffron? I’d be willing to give you a quarter kilo for five copper pieces.”

Still refusing to break his staring match with Katara, Zuko extended a closed fist backwards to Shyu without turning around. “Make it three copper pieces.”

The merchant rolled his eyes but acquiesced, taking the proffered money and grumbling something along the lines of, “If your uncle didn’t make the best tea around here…”

Katara’s ears pricked up.

_The general was here, too? Well that makes sense since they’ve always been traveling together. But what exactly are they playing at?_

Her face must have given something away because Zuko raised his lone brow.

“Thanks, Shyu.”

Closing his hand on the bundled cloth, Zuko effortlessly bent his arm back and dropped his purchase in the rattan pack on his shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah,” the merchant waved a hand flippantly before ducking behind the stall. “Tell Mushi I said hi. And tell him that I’ll be challenging him to a game of pai sho this weekend.”

An amused smirk tugged at Zuko’s lips, and Katara was surprised at how young he suddenly looked.

“You ready to lose again?”

For a moment, Katara wasn’t sure whether he was talking to her or to the merchant. Her hand flexed at her side, ready to uncork her waterskin again, but then Shyu suddenly sprang back up behind the stall with an indignant glare.

“Want to pay me two more copper coins, young man?”

Zuko finally turned around to address him. “Thanks for the bargain, Shyu. Uncle just might be grateful enough to let you win this time.”

A flicker of annoyance flitted across Shyu’s face before he threw his head back and laughed. “Get on with it, Lee. Before I change my mind.”

The Prince threw him a quick grin before turning around. His eyes widened again, as if forgetting for a moment that Katara had been there.

She watched as a range of emotions warred in his eyes—irritation, frustration, conflict, resignation, and finally, apathy. Sparing her one last appraising glance, he grunted at her in acknowledgment and turned to leave.

Katara’s jaw dropped.

_That’s it? No asking about Aang or statements about regaining his honor?_

Zuko was already five stalls away by the time her brain fully kicked in.

_This is too good to be true. Something’s amiss._

“Wait!”

Running after him, Katara huffed as her arms protested at the weight of her basket. She’d forgotten all about it and Momo’s morning of mischief for a while there.

“Zu—Lee!”

Catching her slip-up in time, Katara called his alias once more.

At Zuko’s sudden halt, she crashed into his back.

“Ow!”

He only tsked in response but resumed walking after a moment. “Careful there, peasant.”

_Ugh, there he goes._

“Would you stop calling me that? I have a name you know.”

Without missing a beat, he quipped, “Why? Is it not true?”

He turned his head towards her slightly with a small smirk, the same one that lightened his features at Shyu’s stall.

Katara huffed indignantly as she shifted the basket to her other hip. “I’ll have you know that I’m the Chieftain’s daughter.”

“But you’re not a princess.”

She frowned. “Well, no. But—”

Zuko rolled his eyes as he turned a corner. “Peasant it is then.”

Scowling, she muttered under her breath, “Brat.”

“I heard that.” He turned another corner and out of the market. “Stop following me.”

Tired of keeping up with his quick pace, Katara doubled her strides to block his path. “No. I want to know why you’re here and how you found us.”

Zuko quirked his brow. “Found you? If I remember correctly, your lemur was the one that found _me_.”

Momo chirruped as if in proud confirmation, and the small smirk made an appearance on the Prince’s face again.

Katara perched her free hand on her unoccupied hip. “I’m not leaving you alone until you give me answers, _Lee_. For all I know, you could be falsely leading me on, only to track me down later.”

If he was any more exasperated with her, he merely shrugged. “I’m done chasing the Avatar. Uncle and I have made a new life for ourselves here, and I’d thank you kindly if you and your friends would stay away.”

For the nth time this morning, Katara’s jaw dropped. “If anyone should be staying away, it should be you! You’re the one who’s been chasing us from pole to pole!”

A flicker of ire flashed through Zuko’s eyes, and for a moment, she was wary he would attack her just like old times. Her hand flew to her waterskin once more.

“Are you deaf or just dumb? I told you: I’m done chasing the Avatar. I have no interest in him or his century-late appearance in this Agni-forsaken war anymore.”

Narrowing her eyes, she took a step closer to him. “I don’t believe you.”

For a moment, he was silent, golden eyes stormy. Then just as quickly, they cleared, and the small smirk was back. “Suit yourself.”

Sputtering, Katara watched him turn around and begin walking again. “Lee!” For the second time that day, she hurried to catch up with someone who was hell bent on her losing their trail. “Get back here!”

He merely raised a hand and waved it behind his head in response.

Growling, she stomped after him. “I wasn’t done yet.”

“You weren’t?” He cocked his head to the side, gaze set ahead of him. “Well, I was.”

Katara gasped in indignation. “Are you always this annoying?”

“It depends,” the smirk was back. “Are you always this stalker-like?”

“I am not stalker-like!”

“Yeah? Well, what are you doing now?”

“Following you!”

On her shoulders, Momo brought a paw up to his eyes and whined as if to say, _You just proved his point, you dumbass._

To her surprise, Zuko let out a laugh. A very warm and rich laugh. A very— _what the hell, Katara? This is Zuko, your_ enemy _, we’re talking about!_

“I see you’re still a smart aleck, peasant.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“And I told you to stop following me, yet here we are. Guess we can’t have everything, can we?”

Katara squealed in frustration. The nerve of this jerk! “What is _wrong_ with you?”

Zuko flashed her a feral grin in response before entering the non-descript building they arrived at without her notice. A small, uncared-for bonsai tree sat at the side of the shop’s low step, swaying in time with the green lanterns hanging over the door. A sign above it read _Pao Family Tea House_.

_Huh. This is the new life he was talking about?_

Just as she opened her mouth to resume arguing with him again, the scent of something pleasant hit her and she moaned as she realized it was tea. Really good tea from the smell of it. Tui knows how long it had been since she’d indulged in a good cup.

Momo must have been of the same opinion, as he jumped from her shoulders to scurry after Zuko into the shop.

Hastening after the lemur, she entered the shop and was immediately enamored by the simple yet cozy ambiance. The shop was small with little over ten tables, but it was quaint with that small pitstop feel. Minimal décor grazed the interior, save for the Earth Kingdom tapestries that hung intermittently on the walls. Low lights in conjunction with the sunlight streaming in through the open windows kept the place alive, and it was well and truly packed. Customers prattled to and laughed with each other as they sipped from steaming cups and indulged in small treats.

 _Those look really good_.

Stomach rumbling, Katara made for the back of the shop, where a small counter, kitchen, and backroom were crammed beside each other.

As she approached, she saw an older man—General Iroh, she deduced—bustling about the kitchen. Zuko exited the backroom, a faded white and green apron already thrown over his lean frame.

_When did he lose all that muscle?_

“Lee! What took you so long?”

Iroh’s voice rose above the chatter, and Katara blinked out of her observation of the Prince.

Zuko picked up a tray and began loading it, but not before begrudgingly throwing a biscuit at Momo, who chirped happily in gratitude. “I ran into someone in the market and got held up.”

“Oh? And who might that—” Iroh looked up from the pot he was brewing in time for Katara to step up beside Zuko. Eyes widening in surprise, his hands stilled in their movements.

“Miss Katara! What a lovely surprise.”

Beside her, the Prince drawled, “Oh. You’re still here.”

“Nephew!” At Iroh’s scandalized gasp, Katara bit back a giggle. “That is no way to treat our friend and guest.” The portly man turned his gaze back to her. “You must excuse my nephew. Being out in the sun too long has clearly dampened his manners.”

Suddenly shy, she bowed her head in greeting. “General.”

Iroh smiled jovially. “Please, call me Mushi.”

Handing Momo another biscuit, Zuko rolled his eyes.

Deciding to ignore him for the moment, she smiled back at the general. “Mushi, huh?”

“Yes. A common name for a common _refugee_.”

At her widened eyes, Iroh chuckled. “Why don’t I prepare you pot of my most famous brew, on the house? Lee here can join you when the morning rush dies down and you two can catch up.”

Immediately, Zuko protested. “Uncle!”

“Nonsense, Lee! It’s the least you could do after being so rude to Miss Katara.”

Over Zuko’s grumbling, Iroh winked at her and gestured to the lone empty table by the backroom door. “Have a seat, my dear. Your tea will be ready shortly.”

Grinning widely, she thanked Iroh and held her arm out for Momo to perch on before turning towards the table. She heard Zuko mutter about nosy peasants under his breath as she walked away.

This time, Katara giggled as she settled on the table, sticking her tongue out childishly at Zuko’s glare. She knew she should be more alert, that she should be running back to her friends to tell them of their compromised location, but the day was bizarre enough for her to stay put for the moment, and the tea shop really was rather comforting.

Setting down the basket, Katara perused her haul. “We have everything we need now,” she spoke to Momo, “Might as well take a tea break.”

The lemur only chirped in agreement.

Surveying the shop around her, Katara’s eyes landed on Zuko. Her earlier observation of how much skinnier he was came to mind and she frowned. What was a spoiled Prince from the Fire Nation doing busting tables in the Lower Ring of all places? How did he even manage to end up here? Had he been here for the six months since they’d last seen him? And most of all, why had Iroh called them refugees?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the gentle clink of china on the table. A fruity yet piercing scent wafted from the pot. It was soothing and appealing all at once.

“This smells wonderful, Mushi.”

Iroh smiled warmly, pouring her a cup. “White ginger pear for the lovely young lady. Our best seller.”

Katara gratefully lifted the cup to her lips and sipped carefully. Almost immediately, she moaned in satisfaction as the delicately balanced fruitiness of the tea assaulted her tastebuds and was chased down by a tangy afternote and a spicy kick.

With wide eyes, she praised Iroh. “This is incredible! I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

He chuckled and bowed his head humbly. “Thank you. You’re far too kind, Miss Katara.”

Setting her cup down, she grinned. “Just Katara.”

Inclining his head in acquiescence, Iroh poured her another cup before slipping his hand into the sleeves of his robe to present a biscuit to Momo. “Enjoy your tea, then, Katara. Lee should be coming around shortly.”

With one last smile, the genial man took his leave and headed back into the kitchen. No sooner had he entered it than his nephew made his way to her table, a frown on his thin lips.

“What do you want, peasant?”

It seemed as if his earlier aloofness and teasing had all but evaporated. This version of Zuko was reminiscent of the angsty teen she was much more familiar with, but it wasn’t the same one either. Not entirely. It confused Katara and struck an honest chord in her before she could reign it in.

“I don’t know.”

Zuko cocked his brow before sighing. Setting the tray in his hands on the table, he took the seat across from hers. After a moment of silence that saw him twiddling with his thumbs, he finally met her gaze.

“Look, if you’re still worried about me hounding you and your friends, it's misplaced. Uncle and I have been living and working here for the past half year, and we’ve got a good thing going. I’m not looking to turn the Avatar in to the Father Lord, and I doubt I’d be looking to return to the Fire Nation any time soon.”

Countless questions burned through Katara’s mind, and she was all too ready to voice them. Unfortunately, the only thing that she managed was, “ _Father Lord?_ ”

Zuko blinked, a flush crawling across his cheeks. “ _That_ ’s what you got out of everything I said?”

To both their surprise, a hysterical laugh bubbled its way out of Katara.

_Spirits, could this day be any weirder?_

Annoyance settled in Zuko’s features again and Katara was quick to appease him.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

Another bout of laughter made its way up her throat and Zuko scowled, arms crossed across his chest.

“If you’re just going to laugh, you might as well leave.”

That sobered Katara up quickly.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, _your highness_ ,” she drawled, “But you’ll have to forgive me if I find it a little hard to believe that you would give up your one ticket home so suddenly.”

The Prince studied her for a moment, emotions she couldn’t read swirling in his golden eyes. “Maybe I don’t want to go home anymore.”

Katara scoffed. “As if.”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t know me, peasant. Whether you believe me or not is up to you, but I’ve already told you what you wanted to know. I don’t owe you anything else.”

Rising from his seat, she watched him disdainfully. Woeful as she was to admit it, he was right. She only knew Zuko as the son of the Fire Lord, the enemy, the pursuer. Aside from their brief encounters, most of which was just them in battle, she knew next to nothing about him. And she hated that he was right.

Something snapped in her and she lashed out before she could think it through.

“How about an apology then? If you’re so reformed, surely an apology isn’t too difficult for you.”

Zuko stilled, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the tray in his hands. “I’m not going to apologize for the things I’ve done. Like you said, taking the Avatar back to the Fire Nation was my only ticket home. I’m sure you would have done the same had you been in my position.”

Katara scoffed, but the seed of doubt had planted itself in her mind. Would she, had their roles been reversed? Surely, she wouldn’t. But as the thought of being stripped of her birthright, banished from her home, and left to fend for herself save for a motley crew to keep her company with an insurmountable task laden on her shoulders, she suddenly wasn’t so sure.

A wave of discomfort and uneasiness washed over her. This wasn’t how she envisioned a run-in with the disgraced prince to go. _He_ was the one who was supposed to be made uncomfortable and repentant by her words, not the other way around!

She was snapped out of her reverie by his sigh.

“If that’s all, I’ll be taking my leave. There are customers waiting.”

He turned without a second glance at her.

Stung by his callous dismissal and the unnerving turn her day suddenly took, she angrily stomped her way out of the tea shop.

Of all the people in the world, really! And of all the possible places!

Did he think she was going to buy his act? Did he suppose she was born yesterday?

_Reformed, my ass! More like setting me up in a false sense of security! Whatever it is he’s planning, I’ll figure it out soon. Just he wait and see._

Her resolve in place, she began her trek back to the Upper Ring. It wasn’t until she was a few blocks away from the shop that she realized she’d left her basket behind in her anger with Zuko.

Letting out a frustrated scream, she threw her hands in the air and turned around, heading back in the direction she came.

_This is all Momo’s fault!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo was it horrible? ~~sorry not sorry???~~ this is my first attempt at a multi-chap fic so bear with me! also, i hope zuko wasn't too ooc in this. but if he was, chapter 2 should clear it up. anyway, i'd love to hear your thoughts, so leave a comment or send me a message on [tumblr](https://winterpolis.tumblr.com)! i'd love to discuss <3


	2. the questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara still doesn't trust Zuko, but the foundations of her doubt begin to crack. In time, she gets one step closer to the secrets that keep him and his uncle in the Lower Ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so overwhelmed by everyone's response to the first chapter! you guys are far too kind, thank you ever so much <3 this chapter was really fun to write, and i'm kind of surprised with the way the scenes rewrote themselves, but i can't say i'm not happy. enjoy!

Katara was back the next day, and Zuko was not surprised in the least. In fact, it seemed as if he had been expecting her.

“I thought I smelt peasant.”

The smirk he threw her way was not unlike the one he’d been doling out yesterday, and she briefly considered how, had he not been who he was, she might’ve thought it charming. But as it stood, he was the prince of the Fire Nation and previously hell bent on capturing her closest friend. He couldn’t be trusted, smirks and all, and she wasn’t about to be caught off guard or swayed by his wily charms.

Instead, Katara rolled her eyes and seated herself at the same table she occupied the day before. “And I thought I smelt a scheming prince.”

Zuko’s smirk dipped into a small grin just the tiniest bit exasperated, a faint blush coloring his pale cheeks. She swallowed the gasp that threatened to leave her at how— _La forgive me for thinking so—_ handsome he looked when he wasn’t scowling or pouting.

“I thought I told you that chapter of my life had closed?” It was a question phrased as a statement, and Katara nodded patronizingly.

“Uh-huh, sure. And I’m an earth bender.”

“You couldn’t be an earth bender if you tried, peasant. You’re not unyielding enough.”

Katara’s eyes widened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Zuko shrugged. “You’re a water bender. By nature, you’re graceful and pliant.”

An awkward silence thick enough to be cut with a knife settled between them, and she blinked up at him, trying to process what he’d just said.

The color in his cheeks had deepened and he refused to meet her eyes.

Momo chirped from where he sat on the table. _And these dunderheads are supposed to be masters of their elements?_

“Did you just compliment me?”

Immediately, he started sputtering. “Wh-what? No!” He brought a hand up to the back of his neck, and Tui strike her now, but it was…adorable.

“Why would I compliment a peasant such as yourself? You’re hearing things.”

It was her turn to smirk. _Interesting_.

“It’s okay, Lee, I won’t tell anyone about your little slip up from evil.”

“For the love of—” he cut himself off and tipped his head backwards. “Agni give me patience,” he muttered to the ceiling.

Despite her better judgment, Katara giggled. The sound brought Zuko back to her attention, and he seemed to remember himself, extending an arm towards her with a menu in hand.

Trying to change the subject, he murmured, “I see you brought the lemur again.”

She accepted it with one last smirk of her own and spared Momo a quick glance. “For reasons only a troublemaker like himself can understand, he actually likes you. Perhaps it’s the love of chaos you both share.”

“Is that so?” Thoroughly amused and backhanded compliment pushed aside, Zuko held out two biscuits to Momo, who happily screeched his thanks.

Zuko winced. “For such a small animal, he sure packs a lot of volume.”

Katara smiled wryly in return, eyeing the blueberry sage tea on the menu with interest. “He’s our secret weapon, didn’t you know? When all else fails, Momo’s screech to the face serves as a good surprise attack.”

Zuko chuckled and reached out a hand to pat her companion. She opened her mouth to warn him of Momo’s aversion to being pet, but before she could do so, the lemur pushed his head further into the palm of the fire bender’s hand and purred in content.

“Huh,” she clucked her tongue. “He really does like you.”

The Prince met her gaze and smirked.

“But what does he know? He only follows the food.”

Zuko rolled his eyes before jerking his chin towards the menu in her hands. “Have you settled on a brew yet?”

She nodded as she pushed the flimsy board across the table towards him. “I’d like to try the blueberry sage, please.”

“Good choice. It goes well with the poppy cake, would you like a slice of that as well?”

Raising an eyebrow, she rested her chin on folded hands. “Trying to milk me of my money, Lee?”

A flush colored his cheeks once more, and she barely restrained the smile that threatened to slip past her lips. There was something about making Zuko squirm, as much as this new version of him unsettled her, that made her feel giddy. Not that it meant anything. Not at all.

“Damn,” Zuko sighed dramatically, “you caught me there, peasant.”

A surprised chuckle tumbled from her mouth. Of all things, she hadn’t expected this version of the Prince to have a sense of humor, dry as it was.

At the knowing smirk that settled on his lips when he caught her staring, she schooled her features into a poker face. “I’m waiting, _server_.”

Scoffing, he gave Momo one last pat before turning to the kitchen. “I’m putting two slices on your tab for that,” he called over his shoulder.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Lee. I have more than five copper coins.”

Recognizing the quip as a reference to when he had been haggling with Shyu yesterday, Zuko threw her an amused look. Katara only stared at him defiantly, a taunting glint in her eyes. He rolled his eyes again, but she caught him shaking his head in amusement.

Once he was out of sight, she turned to the lemur who was taking a sip of his own tea. When had Zuko brought out a cup for _the lemur_?

“You’re a traitorous little thing, aren’t you?”

Momo cocked his head to the side and blinked innocently up at her. _What are you going to do about it?_

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “Coy doesn’t become you.”

When Momo simply chittered as if to mock her, she sniffed and turned her head away to take stock of the tea shop.

It was early in the afternoon, but there were plenty of customers milling about. Most of them were residents of the Lower Ring, but she caught an occasional formal robe and coiffed hair that screamed Middle and Upper Rings. It seemed that Iroh’s tea-making skills reached far and wide indeed.

Lazily, Katara found herself pondering on what Zuko had said yesterday, about how this tea shop was he and his uncle’s new beginning. At the time, her tumultuous history with the fire bender had driven her to lash out in disbelief. But after tossing and turning all night about the previous day’s events, a huge part of her was becoming more and more inclined to believe it was so. After all, the Prince’s mellowed demeanor and the easy if not awkward way he conducted himself spoke volumes of the difference the six months of his absence from their trail had done on him.

But even so, the war-honed part of her was hesitant to accept the precarious evidence. Gran Gran always did say that a polar leopard didn’t change it spots. A man who was as much a force of nature as Zuko was was bound to be hiding a trick up his sleeve. And whatever it was he was attempting to play off in this city, regardless of whether or not it had anything to do with Aang, Katara resolved to get to the bottom of it. For the greater good of the world and all.

“You look like a viper bat pissed on your tea, and you haven’t even had it yet.”

The thinly veiled insult effectively brought Katara out of her musings, and she scowled at Zuko, who stood before her table with a full tray in his hands.

“You know, this tea shop has the worst customer service. I wonder why it’s as famous as it seems to be.”

Zuko began to unload her spread. “Thank Agni they come for Uncle and not for me, then. There’s only so much adoration I can stomach.”

Thoroughly amused, Katara laughed. How was it that her enemy— _Is it former enemy now? Perhaps it’s too early to tell_ —was able to make her laugh so easily? Had the world spun itself over?

“Somehow, I don’t doubt that.”

He smirked at her, the same faint blush from earlier resting on his cheeks, before turning to watch Momo grab at a slice of cake with gusto. He almost looked at Momo with a hint of affection.

“What questions do you have for me today?”

Katara hummed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, obviously you didn’t come here for the company.”

She huffed and poured a cup of the sweet-smelling tea. “You didn’t exactly answer my questions yesterday, you know.”

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Zuko took note of the tea shop. All the customers had been served, and none seemed to be in need of a refill. Perhaps he could take a small break. He settled in the chair across from Katara and folded his hands on the table.

“You get three questions.” At Katara’s protest, he merely shrugged. “I’m still on shift, you know.”

Katara waved a hand in dismissal as the other brought the cup to her lips. Immediately, the sweetness of the berries and the subtle tartness of sage overwhelmed her senses as she took a sip.

A wide smile overtook her features as she finished the rest of the cup. “This is delicious!”

The corner of Zuko’s lips pulled into a smile of his own. “Uncle will be pleased to hear that.” He watched her down another cup before pushing the slice of cake towards her.

“So, Lee,” Katara started as she picked up the fork. “What brought you and Mushi to Ba Sing Se?”

Zuko sighed, hearing the unspoken question loud and clear. _What are you planning in this little hell hole?_

After making sure no one was tuning into their conversation, he met her gaze head on and decided to answer the spoken question rather than the indirect one. “Uncle and I have been exiled from the Fire Nation. Shortly after the Siege of the North—” They both paused for a moment of silence for Yue. “—my father sent my sister to bring us back home.”

“Wait,” Katara interrupted, “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Zuko nodded. “It was. But not in the way my father intended. Uncle thought it was a trap, of course, but Azula had made it sound as if Father—” He paused and swallowed hard. His father was a sensitive topic still, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to discuss it with the Avatar’s water bender, of all people, especially if she wasn’t convinced yet of the new leaf he had turned over.

After a moment, he sighed, fiddled with his thumbs, and pressed on. “Uncle was right. We had been unknowingly declared as traitors of the Fire Nation after the whole fiasco with Zhao and had no choice but to escape. We made our way here, in Ba Sing Se, not long after that.”

The water bender’s lips were formed into a small O of understanding. “That’s why you changed your names.”

He hummed in confirmation. “Around here, we’re just two refugees looking for a new life after a Fire Nation army invaded and burned our town to the ground.” If Katara’s lips turned down at the irony of the cover story as much as his did, he made no mention of it. “I’d like to keep it that way.”

Katara frowned. “Are you implying that I would report you to the authorities?”

He cocked a brow in response. “You can’t tell me you didn’t think of that the moment you recognized me in the market yesterday.”

Frown deepening, Katara shoved another piece of the scrumptious cake—Zuko had been right, it did go well with the tea—into her mouth.

_He’s right, but he doesn’t need to know that._

She chewed for a moment before continuing her inquisition. “It doesn’t explain why you claim to have changed, though. Surely, you still want your throne? You are—were—the Crown Prince, after all.”

“I do want my throne. But that desire is overshadowed by other things now—more important things,” Zuko answered cryptically.

Katara felt her brows pull together in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

_What was more important than restoring his precious honor?_

The heavy air that surrounded their conversation fell away as Zuko abruptly stood. “You’ve reached your limit for the day. You even snuck in an extra question there, free of charge.”

Katara’s jaw dropped, and he chuckled in response.

“Close your mouth peasant, lest you catch ant flies. Trust me, they aren’t pleasant.”

She slammed her mouth shut and scowled up at him. “This isn’t over, you know.”

“I know.”

With that, he turned and took his leave, much like he did yesterday.

Except this time, Katara was filled with curiosity and even more questions, rather than the misplaced anger that filled her the day before.

* * *

The next few days passed by in the same manner, and it quickly became something of a routine. She would drop by the tea shop with an excuse for being in the vicinity— _Sokka wanted new shoes; Toph asked for komodo chicken skewers for dinner; Momo was getting restless in their uppity house_ —and she just thought to stop by. She didn’t think either Zuko or Iroh believed her, but they made no mention of it and she appreciated that.

After she would place an order for a new flavor of tea she hadn’t tried before, she would wait for a lull in the shop’s business in order to dole out another three prying questions at Zuko, who eased into her visits with patience she was unused to, especially coming from someone as hotheaded as she remembered him to be.

Iroh stopped by her table for a quick chat at times, but she was mostly left to her own devices. She was embarrassed to admit that she spent a good amount of her time observing the Prince. Although not as muscular as he’d once been, she could tell that his shoulders were still broad and his arms still strong. He had definitely grown a lot taller since the North Pole, and he was nearly towering over his uncle now. His hair had also grown into a neat crop that suited him well, but then again, mostly bald really didn’t do any wonders for anyone except Aang, and she supposed Zuko had been attractive enough even back then. Now, though…

_Get your head out of the gutter, Katara! This is still Zuko we’re talking about!_

These things shouldn’t have sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach the way they did the past few days, but they did, and she hated him a little bit for it.

She pretended that she wasn’t beginning to look forward to his amused smile and _very_ dorky opening question of, “Ready for three questions with Lee?” every visit. Because she wasn’t. She was just here to reconnoiter and not because she _maybe_ liked the way his small smiles lit up his face in a way that made him look decidedly not evil; not because she liked the way she could catch him off guard more often than she expected, and an endearing flush would travel all the way from the tip of his ears to under his clothed chest; and not because she liked listening to his voice and the way it rasped as he answered her questions. Most definitely not.

_Of course not! He chased us from home to the world over. He tried to kidnap Aang countless times. He dragged Gran Gran and humiliated Sokka in front of the tribe. He tied me up to a tree and he stole Mom’s necklace for La’s sake, and—and he hasn’t tried anything in the week since I found him…_

“Something troubling you, Katara?”

Blue eyes blinked owlishly as her head snapped to the source of the familiar voice. Her shoulders drooped at the sight of Iroh’s friendly smile.

“Hello, Mushi. I didn’t notice you there.”

Iroh chuckled. “Yes, you were quite deep in your thoughts.” He set the pot in front of her, lemongrass and green tea this time, and slowly lowered himself into the chair Zuko usually occupied. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Shrugging helplessly, she took the cup he poured and warmed her hands against the sides. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, and Iroh waited patiently.

“It’s true, isn’t it? He no longer means Aang harm?”

Unnerving and dismantling the past week may have been with all that she’s learn and relearnt about the two princes, Katara couldn’t deny any longer that Zuko was telling the truth about a new life here in the Lower Ring. Aside from the obvious changes in just about everything she knew about him, there was also the fact that she hadn’t seen either Iroh or himself use their bending in the time she’d been reacquainted with them. If anything, that in itself was a testament like no other. She herself couldn’t imagine going a day without heeding to the pull of the moon or the call of the water. Bending was so central to who she was, an extension of herself even, and she couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for either of them to withhold from fire bending. Surely, they wouldn’t be putting themselves under such voluntary duress unless they were serious about leaving the war behind them. Ironically enough, they were doing so in a city that believed there to be no war outside its walls.

“My nephew may be a lot of things, Katara, but a liar is not one of them.” Iroh paused and chose his next words carefully. “He may omit certain truths from the big picture, but he would never deceive with the intent to truly harm anyone.”

Her face must have shown her disbelief because Iroh chuckled good-naturedly.

“I know it must be hard to believe since you have only ever seen the turbulent side of him, but my nephew is a good man. He has the purest heart I know, but it has often been misguided given all the misfortunes he’s had to suffer at his father’s hand.”

Katara watched the emotions dance across Iroh’s weathered face. There was pride and affection there, but also deep sadness and even a darkness that hinted at anger towards Ozai. She didn’t know whether it was within her rights to pry, but the curiosity burned her from the inside.

“What kind of misfortunes?”

At the piercing stare Iroh gave her, Katara felt herself redden and hastened to explain herself. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just…you looked so conflicted when you said it. Does Ozai not love Zuko?”

Genial as he may be, she knew that Iroh’s gentle nature could only be prodded at too far. She expected him to shut her down for being too nosy, and she wouldn’t have been incensed, but instead, she got a grimace.

“The Fire Lord once told my nephew that his sister Azula was born lucky, and that, on the other hand, Prince Zuko was lucky to be born. That, if anything, should tell you what kind of father he was.”

Katara gasped. What kind of father would belittle and hurt his own son so deeply? She imagined her own father speaking to Sokka in such a way, and her stomach roiled at the impossibility. Just thinking about it made her all sorts of sick and furious.

Iroh nodded sadly at her reaction. “Prince Zuko is not perfect,” he reiterated, “And he has long struggled to make the right decisions where his father and the throne are concerned.”

Katara hummed in agreement, and the general gave her an indulgent smile.

“Despite all that, he has always been the same precocious and righteous boy I knew him to be since he was a child, brave and strong-willed. Our time here in the Earth Kingdom has changed his path irrevocably, and for the first time in his life, my nephew has taken a hold of his destiny, rather than the other way around.”

Katara’s brows pulled together. There was no doubt Iroh loved the Prince and was immensely proud of him, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was a certain ambiguousness that cloaked his answer in a way similar to Zuko’s cryptic answers about the things that have derailed him from his loyalty to the Fire Lord.

Iroh reached across the table to pat her hand. “I am sure you have lots of questions, my dear, but I am afraid you will have to wait and ask Zuko himself, as it is not my place to say any more.”

The water bender frowned and scanned the tea shop. “Where _is_ Zuko? I don’t think I’ve seen him all day.”

“He had some personal matters to attend to,” Iroh explained vaguely, “But he will be back in a day or two.”

_Personal matters? What kind of—_

The general chuckled as he pulled himself up from the seat. “They are not matters to be suspicious about, Katara. You can be rest assured.”

Blushing at being called out so accurately, Katara returned Iroh’s good-bye as he ambled back into the kitchen.

Pouring herself another cup of tea, Katara allowed her mind to wander. The talk with Iroh had been enlightening, yet at the same time, it dumped a whole new slew of questions at her feet. She had no doubt in her mind now that she and her friends had one less enemy in the Fire Nation princes, but she couldn’t help feeling unsettled still. She now had no reason to keep coming back to the tea shop to keep an eye on them, but the thought of uprooting the routine she’d settled into over the past week sent her heart plummeting.

_When did I start to look forward to coming here?_

Annoyed at the turn her thoughts had taken, Katara waved at Iroh and left for home.

* * *

In the week that followed, Katara stayed away from the tea shop.

Mostly to prove to herself that she could, but also because she was running out of reasons to give her friends as to why she frequented the Lower Ring more often than usual these days. She hadn’t run out of plausible excuses just yet, but she didn’t want to push her luck either. Besides, her conversation with Iroh had given her plenty to think about. She didn’t even know where to begin unpacking what she’d learnt.

As it so happened, Sokka had ripped his pants _again_ , and she’d run out of thread to mend them with. This necessitated a visit to the Lower Ring’s haberdasher, where the selection of spools were wide, varied, and at a reasonable cost compared to the Middle and Upper Rings’. They were by no means short on money, especially when they were being housed by the Earth King himself, but she didn’t think it practical to spend lavishly when there was an option to be thrifty instead.

What she didn’t expect during her trip to the Lower Ring, however, was to run into Zuko and to subsequently trail him upon doing so. Later on, she would argue that she hadn’t meant to, that her curiosity just got the better of her. A small voice in her head argued otherwise.

She had just finished handing over the correct amount of coins to the merchant when she caught him. He was in a darker set of clothes and a coolie hat pulled low over his face, making him look inconspicuous but not out of place enough to draw anyone’s attention. If it wasn’t for the brief glimpse of his scar under the wide brim of his hat, she wouldn’t even have noticed him. But now that she had, she decided to trail him for reasons she’d rather not dissect at the moment.

Zuko, she quickly found, was lithe on his feet. His gait was strong and steady, and despite living undercover as refugees in the Lower Ring, there was an air of regality to the way he carried himself that he couldn’t quite dispel, no matter how far away from the throne he was. It was honestly a bit mesmerizing—and therefore troubling to Katara.

_How has he managed to upend so many things I believed about him in a matter of days and hold my interest to boot? Wait, what? Hold my interest? What in Tui’s holy tit was that, Katara?_

Shaking her head to ground herself, Katara ducked behind a kiosk of colorful cloth as Zuko turned into a narrow alley.

_Where is he going?_

Counting down from five, she quickly followed after him and barely managed to catch sight of him cross an archway to the right. Hastening her steps, she jumped over a puddle of sewer water and continued in his trail.

_He better not be making his way to a seedy tavern or something. It’s still daylight, for La’s sake._

She pretended not to notice the flurry of jealousy that settled in her chest at the thought.

Further down the alley, two men were arguing loudly. Zuko had just passed them by when they started throwing punches at each other. Squeaking, Katara rushed past them before she could get caught in or held up by the altercation. By the time she was in the clear, however, she’d already lost Zuko. Standing helplessly in the middle of some Lower Ring alley she’d rather not linger in too long, Katara cursed.

“Dammit!”

Running a hand through her braid, she took a deep breath and tried to remember the way she came. Muttering to herself, she held out her fingers. “Two lefts, past the archway, three rights… Or was it two lefts, past the archway, and two rights?”

“Who are we following?”

Katara let out a startled shriek at the sudden presence behind her, instinctively sending a water whip flying at her would-be attacker.

“Oh Agni, Katara! What the hell? It’s just me!”

Blood rushing in her ears and heart threatening to beat out of her chest, she turned around to see a drenched Zuko clutching a red cheek from where her water whip had landed.

“Zuko?”

“Yes, Zuko here!” Incensed, the fire bender threw her a— _are those hurt polar dog eyes?_ “What the ever loving hell did you do that for?”

Katara brought her hands to rest on her hips, gulping a deep breath of air. “You startled me! In the middle of some sketchy alley!”

The Prince raised a brow, hand still pressed to his cheek. “And you were stalking me.”

Katara sputtered. “I wasn’t stalking you!”

“Really? What are you doing in this ‘sketchy alley’ then?” he threw back at her, making air quotations around the words she used.

Frantically glancing around, Katara blurted the first thing that came to mind. “I was, uh, looking for Momo!”

Zuko looked at her disbelievingly. “You were looking for the lemur. Really.”

“Yes!” Cupping a hand to her mouth, she turned to the left and called loudly, “Momo!” Then turning to her right, she covered her mouth from his view and attempted to imitate Momo’s screech.

“See? He’s around here somewhere.”

Zuko was silent for a moment, and even the sound of the fighting men from earlier seemed to disappear into the shallowness of her flimsy story. Suddenly, Zuko’s guffaws broke the stillness.

Katara felt heat flood her face and she looked down at her feet in embarrassment.

“You, peasant,” he tried to say between his laughter— _it’s that very nice laugh again_ , “Are hilariously hopeless at lying.” More laughter, “I can’t believe you just tried to imitate Momo.” Tears were actually leaking from his eyes, Tui and La! “Very poorly, might I add.”

She glowered at him but barely repressed her own smile. “Alright, alright. I get it. You can stop laughing now.”

With one last chuckle, Zuko wiped at his eyes and turned to her with a smile. It occurred to Katara that this was the first _real_ smile he graced her with, and she beat the tiny flutter in her chest away.

_Bad Katara!_

“Wanna tell me why you were stalking me?”

“I wasn’t—”

At his raised brow and growing smile, she pouted.

Grumbling, she turned her head to the side. “I wanted to see what evil plan you were up to.”

_He doesn’t need to know I’m off his arse now. Just in case…_

Zuko sighed, but it was an affectionate one. “Did it ever occur to you that I was just running some errands?”

“In a sketchy alley?” The disbelief in her voice was evident, but he shrugged unaffectedly. “It’s the shortest way to get to the tea shop from this side of the market.”

Seeing the doubt still lingering on her face, Zuko sighed again, exasperated this time. He jerked his head towards the alley in question.

“C’mon, follow me. I’m sure I can find it in my heart to answer your three questions again when we reach the tea shop, even if you did stalk me.” He threw a grin her way when she scowled. “I’m sure the week you’ve been away has more than burdened you with the desire to know.”

Katara tilted her head to the side. “Were you counting down the days I was away?”

Immediately, self-assured Zuko stepped back to let flustered, dorky Zuko appear. “I, um, I…”

Rolling her eyes, Katara suppressed a grin.

“It’s okay to admit you missed me, you know.”

Katara didn’t think he could get any redder, but she didn’t know where _that_ had come from either.

“What—no—why—”

After flailing for a good while, Zuko finally cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t miss you even if you paid me, peasant.”

Katara’s lips broke into the grin she’d been holding back on. “Mhmm.”

Zuko nudged her as he turned to lead the way.

_Yup, totally a dork._

* * *

The moment the shop came into view, the levity that had settled over them evaporated, and she just knew, in her bones, that something was wrong.

The doors and windows were boarded as if it had been closed early, and it was just midday.

Cursing under his breath, Zuko rushed to the side of the building and entered through a side door. Katara followed closely on his heels.

“Uncle!”

The inside of the shop was a study of an interrupted day. The lights were still on and chairs were askew, chinaware left untidied on tables as if customers had been hastily ushered out. Kettles still boiled in the kitchen, and a persistent heat from being left on the burner too long permeated the back of the shop.

A moment later, Iroh exited the backroom with sweat lining his brow.

“Zuko! Thank goodness you are back, I—”

Iroh’s gaze met hers distractedly and his eyes widened a fraction. He barely managed a small but genuine smile. “Katara! It is lovely to see you.”

Katara offered him a smile back. “It’s great to see you too, Iroh.”

Before anything else could be said, Zuko grasped his uncle’s shoulders, a distraught look on his face. “What’s going on, Uncle?”

A wave of unease crawled down her spine. She had a feeling that whatever they had been hiding from her was about to come to light—and not in a manner they expected it to.

“It’s getting worse. The fever has more than doubled in intensity and the shivers have begun.”

Zuko paled as another curse slipped past his lips.

“We can always go to the Middle Ring clinic, you know it’s—”

Zuko was already shaking his head before his uncle could finish his sentence.

“You know that’s not an option, Uncle. It’s too risky.”

“We have no choice! We don’t have the medicinal herbs necessary to quell the fever on our own, and you know as well as I do that if it doesn’t break within the next hour—”

A deep growl emitted from the younger prince’s throat, and for a moment, Katara was reminded of the Zuko from before.

“Don’t say it, Uncle.”

Iroh sighed heavily, bringing the sleeve of his robe up to wipe away the sweat.

Deciding now was the time to reinsert herself into the conversation, Katara hesitantly spoke. “I hate to interrupt, but it sounds like someone you know is in need of healing abilities.”

Both fire benders turned to look at her so quickly, she was afraid they’d gotten whiplash.

“I don’t mean to pry, but see, I have healing abilities and—”

The words died on her lips as she watched palpable relief and hope flood her companions’ faces.

Zuko turned to Iroh with wide eyes. “She can—”

“Yes, nephew, she can!”

She’d never heard Iroh sound so excited over something other than tea and pai sho, but before she could ask what it was she could do, he was already ushering her from behind to the backroom with Zuko leading the way.

“Wait, I need to know what’s going on first. I—”

Zuko paused by the door and turned to look at her, steely determination and a bit of frantic desperation dancing on the shadows of his face. “I know this is sudden, and I know you don’t trust me yet.”

Katara made a noise of protest, but Zuko raised a hand to stop her. “Not completely anyway. But look, I promise I’ll answer your questions— _all_ your questions—later. But first, I need to ask you a favor.”

The intensity of his eyes left her no choice.

“What is it?”

Instead of answering her, he pushed the door open and led her into the surprisingly spacious room, Iroh following after her. The sconces that lined the walls flared briefly with the two fire benders’ emotions clearly running high.

In the far corner of the room, unopened crates of tea were arranged to make a small enclosed space with a dip in the middle. She could see pots of tea, multiple soiled cloths, and a mortar and pestle where herbs had been crushed into a paste line the tops of them. Just what was going on here?

As they stepped closer to the odd formation, a sharp gasp tore from Katara’s throat.

The crates didn’t just make up an odd formation—it was an enclosed makeshift bed, a cot laid out in the center. And clearly feverish, sweaty, and no older than two, lay a baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finished this chapter a bit early, so here it is. hopefully, the pacing was okay and not too rushed. i wanted to tap into the empathetic but curious side of katara that would have given zuko a chance to explain himself, history aside, before making a decision about whether he was trust-worthy or not. i always thought that if they were just given enough time to talk things out, they would have formed some sort of friendship, so that's what i tried to do here. of course, big heart as she has, she's also fiercely protective of her friends. that's why she trails zuko into the alley despite having decided that he was, indeed trust-worthy—at least that's partly why ;) also, dorky zuko is the best zuko, so thanks to the friends who mentioned there wasn't enough awkward turtleduckness in the first chapter. hopefully, i got to fix that here. lastly, i would like to thank tea forté for the inspiration behind iroh's tea blends, ha.


	3. the answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Iroh's secret comes to light, and Katara gets the answers she's been looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tada! here's the big chapter, and oohhh boy, was this a struggle to write.
> 
> this is perhaps one of the most painful ones i've written, so forgive any errors that you'll catch. speaking of, thanks to those of you who pointed out that the approximate age of the child is that of a toddler and not a baby's! i've done something about that in this chapter, but i like the way the summary flows enough as it is, so you'll just have to forgive me for not changing that, too.
> 
>  **tw:** brief mention of r*pe and a little graphic description of katara's healing process.  
> the sickness the toddler suffers is respiratory syncytial virus. i'm no medical expert whatsoever, so i don't claim to have gotten it right. i only know what i know from the research i did.
> 
> this is a heavy chapter, so brace yourselves!

There was a lump the size of Appa’s fur ball lodged in Katara’s throat.

Standing in the backroom of Iroh’s tea shop, it felt as if the world had shrunk to the space immediately surrounding the crates where the fire benders’ secret lay cocooned, and Katara stood frozen, struggling to understand what was unfolding before her eyes.

Vaguely, she took note of Iroh stepping out of the room—something about grabbing more cloths and a basin of water—but she was too unsettled to do anything with the information.

_Baby. Sick baby. There is a sick baby. Why is there a sick baby? Here? With Zuko? She needs help. I need to help her. I need to—_

“Zuko,” she heard herself say faintly, fingers twitching as if to urge her out of her stupor, “ _why_ is there a baby in your backroom?”

The Prince didn’t answer her. Instead, he moved past her and bent over the side of the crates to pull the baby into his arms. Belatedly, she realized that the poor thing had been making grabby hands at him, the discomforted whines she had been emitting through her fever-induced haze quieting to a whine of recognition and comfort when he stepped into her line of vision.

“Actually, she’s a little over a year old.” Zuko paused to push back dark, sweaty curls and without hesitation, pressed his lips to an equally sweaty forehead. He smiled despite himself when the little girl buried her nose into the crook of his neck, a small, pudgy hand fisting into the collar of his tunic. “So technically,” he continued, rocking her in his arms now, “she’s a toddler, not a baby.”

The matter-of-fact tone in Zuko’s voice contrasted so starkly with the desperation it held when he had asked her for his favor earlier, and even moreso with the gentleness in his actions just now—gentleness she didn’t think him capable of. The contradictions together felt like he had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over her head, and it flushed away the sludge the shock had turned her limbs into. Her healer instincts finally kicking in, she silently berated herself for having stood for as long as she did when there was someone who needed her help right in front of her.

“Oh. Right.”

Taking a seat on one of the unoccupied crates, she motioned for Zuko to set his ward on the cot once more. “Can you please tell me what happened to her?”

Zuko followed her instructions despite the baby’s—the toddler’s—protests, and Katara quickly uncorked her waterskin. The water immediately glowed with her power, and she set to running it over the child’s body to pinpoint where the ailment had taken root. At the cool touch of the liquid, the little girl’s whimpers quieted a fraction and Zuko seemed to breathe a bit easier at that.

“It started about three days ago. One of Uncle’s friends usually watches over her while we’re at work, and she must have caught something while under Kimiko’s care. I’m not too sure about the how, I just know that she woke up crying with a runny nose the day it started, and shortly after that, she was coughing, too. By the following day, she had no appetite and kept breaking out into cold sweats, her breathing difficult. Come midday, she was running a fever.”

Katara’s frown deepened with each symptom Zuko listed. They were ones she had grown familiar with over the course of her childhood helping Gran Gran in the healing hut of their tribe. Solstice Fever is what they called it in the South Pole, so named because the children of the tribe, what little there were, had contracted it close to the solstice for three years in a row. While not fatal, it was still something that needed to be treated in the soonest time possible in order to prevent further complications. Katara suspected this was what the little girl in Zuko and Iroh’s care had contracted, and she was suddenly grateful for having learnt the remedies. It would certainly help her address the problem in a much more efficient manner.

Focusing her energy onto the area around the lungs, she glanced at Zuko briefly. “Today’s the third day of the fever?”

“Yes.” His lips were set in a hard line as he spoke. “I know it’s not a good thing when a child’s fever doesn’t break on the third day.”

As if the admission had sucked all the energy out of him, he deflated on the space next to Katara, his worried eyes watching her hands as they worked.

She felt the strain in the child’s lungs. It was caused by a congestion of mucus in the respiratory tract, and it confirmed her suspicions of a case of Solstice Fever. She was just about to tell Zuko of her findings and to assure him that she could definitely heal the little girl, when he suddenly spoke again, voice decidedly low and burdened.

“I know I have no right to ask you of this favor, given our history, but _please_. She’s just a child and—” His voice hitched and he worked past the lump lodged in his throat. “She’s very important to me. I need her to live past this.”

Katara’s hands stilled in their ministrations and her head snapped up to meet his gaze. The desperation was back, with sorrow to boot, and it tugged painfully at her heartstrings. No matter the callousness and anger he carried himself with when he first landed on the icy shores of her home all those months ago, the Zuko before her now was clearly—what was it Iroh had said? _Irrevocably changed_. And despite not knowing the whole story, she knew that this little girl was the catalyst of it all. If she had been unsure of this Zuko weeks ago— _has it really been that long already?_ —she was sure now. There was something about the rawness and vulnerability he cloaked himself in that couldn’t be faked, and she realized with a start that this was Zuko at his core—the Zuko Iroh had told her about, the Zuko untainted by his father. This wasn’t a new Zuko. It was Zuko as he’d always been, before he was thrust into the madness of his father’s manipulations.

Unbidden, tears pooled in her eyes. “I’ll never turn my back on the people who need me, Zuko. _Never_.”

The promise hung between them like a tentative olive branch, and his golden gaze found hers, grateful and humbled all at once. The sheer force of her resolve and kindness sent him tucking his chin to his chest, a tear running down his scarred cheek without notice or care.

The air thick with unspoken understanding, something small but unshakeable grounded itself between them, shifting the currents that shaped their relationship. Already, Katara knew that nothing would be the same again.

She allowed herself to bask in the moment for a beat longer before she turned her attention to the little girl who had started squirming and shivering once more. Her breathing was a bit more labored now, and Katara quickly worked to channel her energy into the laborious work of siphoning the mucus out of the child’s body to clear the blocked airways. She was careful not to be forceful, lest she hurt the child unintentionally.

Furrowing her brow, she willed her healing to hold out for a little longer. Her level of experience with the ancient art was advanced at best, but all her past attempts had been conducted under the gentle guidance of the moon. With the sun still high in the sky, the healing was taking twice the amount of concentration she usually expended. Though she felt exhaustion beginning to creep over her bones, she pushed past it and worked all the harder. If she could just get this particular stubborn bit of mucus to bend to her will…

Too immersed in her work, she startled at the sudden feeling of a cloth being gently pressed against her hairline. A quick glance up showed Zuko, his lone brow creasing as he dabbed at the sweat that had been trickling down her forehead without her notice.

He held her gaze firmly.

“Thank you, Katara.”

Swallowing, she protested. “She isn’t even fully healed yet.”

He shook his head, eyes glinting with resolve. “I already know she will be.”

A small ball of warmth unfurled in her chest. She didn’t know if it was the tenderness and the conviction in his voice, the emotional toll the whole situation had beaten out of her, or a little bit of both, but she was suddenly overwhelmed and her eyes watered once more.

When Zuko pressed the cloth to the corner of her eye, too, she gave a weak laugh.

It was at that moment that Iroh reappeared, entering the room with a little struggle. He was carrying a full basin stacked over an empty one with both hands, and towels of various sizes were draped carefully over his forearms. He also had a small bag full of what she assumed to be medicinal herbs and leaves swinging at the crook of one elbow, and she thanked Yue for the general’s foresight. She would definitely need those to round out her healing session later.

“How is our sweet girl?” Iroh’s voice was much lighter at the scene that greeted him, but it was nonetheless laced with concern. His eyes flicked between the child and the two benders, and if he noticed the exchange between his nephew and herself, he made no mention of it.

Zuko dropped his hand and rose to assist his uncle, the moment already over. Katara turned back to the child, filing what passed between them for later inspection.

“I’ve nearly got her in the clear. Just give me a moment more.”

Eyeing the bag that Iroh set on the floor, Katara’s eyes focused on a familiar bundle. During her brief time under Yugoda’s tutelage, she had learnt about a menthol paste that helped to relieve the common cough or cold, and which also worked to ease one’s breathing. “Are those eucalyptus leaves?”

Iroh nodded as he took a seat on the crate across from the two younger benders.

“Good. I’ll need you and Zuko to make a paste for the aftercare, please.”

Before she finished speaking, the general was already unloading the bag, his nephew standing to sit beside him.

The younger prince’s voice rasped as he spoke, his eyes finding hers again. “Whatever you need, Katara.”

A pleasant tingle shot down her spine, but she paid it no heed as she began to rattle off the ingredients and the procedure needed to make the paste. Once she was satisfied the fire benders would be able to do as she’d instructed, she continued to work on the little girl. She had been nearly finished with the healing when Iroh entered, so she picked up where she left off.

She coaxed the water in one hand to carefully push at the area where the mucus clung to the lung tissue, then proceeded to bend the water in her other hand into a gentle, contained whirlpool in order to pull at the parts of the mucus that had already peeled off. When the last of the mucus was safely encased in her glowing hands, she tossed the dirty water into the empty basin Iroh brought and pulled clean water from the full one to run her hands over the child one last time.

Satisfied when the little girl’s breathing evened out, she took a small towel from the pile Zuko had neatly stacked atop one of the crates and used her bending to cool the water in the basin. When it was cold enough to the touch, she soaked the towel and wrung it before gently passing the cloth over the now sleeping child’s sweaty face.

Once that was done, she turned to the two princes as they finished with their task. Wordlessly, the mortar was passed to her and she accepted it with a nod of thanks. Taking a small dollop of the menthol paste on two fingers, she bent over the child and pulled back the top of her tiny tunic. Katara gently rubbed the paste over her chest in soothing, circular motions, whispering a prayer of thanks and healing to Tui and La as she did so. Before completely pulling away, she tucked an errant curl behind the child’s ear and smiled at her in relief. How well and truly loved she was.

It was silent in this little corner of Ba Sing Se, the newness of the princes’ ward’s recovery just beginning to settle over them like a blanket of snow.

It was Zuko who broke the stillness with an almost reverent whisper of “She’s okay?” a long while later.

Katara chuckled, feeling the tension leave her in waves at the same time a crest of the exhaustion she had been holding back began to work its way outwards from her chest. “She’s okay.”

As soon as the words left her lips, uncle and nephew whooped for joy so loudly, she found herself laughing at their palpable relief. She watched as they barely restrained themselves from picking up the child to smother her with kisses, instead clutching each other’s arms as they watched over her sleeping form.

Of all the things that happened next, she definitely didn’t expect them to scramble off the crates they were perched on, walk to stand before her, and bow, their foreheads pressed to the ground.

“Oh!” she gasped, her eyes widening in shock. She knew from her travels that this was the highest level of respect one could honor another with, not just in the Fire Nation, but in the Earth Kingdom as well. “Please, that’s not necessary!”

Flushing to the roots of her hair, in part mortification and in part humbled flattery, she squirmed as the princes held the bow a moment longer.

When Zuko and Iroh finally returned to an upright position, they both had glassy eyes.

“Thank you, Master Katara, for saving our Aiko.”  
  


* * *

The three benders exited the backroom to allow Aiko to sleep in peace.

Iroh ushered Zuko and Katara to the only clean table in the shop—Katara’s usual table—and ambled to the kitchen to brew a pot of tea, his shoulders decidedly more relaxed and his gait lighter.

“We all could use a comforting cup,” he had said.

In the wake of his departure, a comfortable, if not relieved, silence enshrouded the table. Katara closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall behind her, needing a moment to tamper the dizzying spell that swept over her as soon as she stood from the crate she sat on for the better part of an hour. Zuko seemed content to just sit quietly, no doubt working through his own thoughts and emotions, and she was perfectly fine with that. She wasn’t up to conversing just yet.

That was how Iroh found them a few minutes later, tea service in hand.

“Lavender orange tea,” he announced with a smile, “to soothe and to unwind.”

Katara gratefully accepted a cup. She took a moment to simply inhale the tendrils of aromatic smoke curling from the rim before taking a sip. She hadn’t realized how parched she was until then. 

A huge burden seemingly fell from her shoulders as the tea worked its way down her throat. “You truly have a gift, Iroh.”

The general chuckled and poured another round for them all. “At least one of you appreciates my tea-making skills.” He threw a fond yet teasing look his nephew’s way, and Zuko flushed bright pink.

Katara tilted her head to the side at this exchange. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”

The grin that spread over Iroh’s face could only be described as mischievous. “Prince Zuko once lost his temper in the early days of our work here in the shop. In his frustration, he called the most sacred form of tea a mere _hot leaf juice_.”

Much to Katara’s embarrassment, she choked on the tea she had just sipped on upon hearing the end of Iroh’s anecdote, and the liquid promptly went spewing out of her mouth and onto Zuko’s face.

There was a beat of silence as shock hung in the air, broken only by Iroh moments later when he let out a full belly-laugh, his eyes crinkling in unabashed glee. 

“This is perhaps what they call karma, my nephew!”

Scowling, Zuko brought up a hand to wipe at his face at the same time Katara raised hers to bend the liquid away.

“Oh, Tui!” Katara flushed a deep red in mortification. “Zuko, I’m so sorry!”

Flicking the liquid towards the kitchen sink, she worried her lip between her teeth, desperately trying not to laugh at how Zuko looked like a put-out, drenched lemur.

The Prince grunted and narrowed his eyes at her. “You should be grateful you just healed Aiko, peasant. Otherwise, you’d have a fight on your hands.”

Perhaps it was the culmination of the day’s events, but suddenly, Katara found herself bursting into a fit of giggles at the harmless threat.

For a moment, Zuko stared at her in surprise, Iroh choking in his continued laughter at his side. But soon enough, Zuko found himself laughing along with them as well, and their laughter filled the empty air of the tea shop for a good long while, chasing the last of the afternoon’s tension away.

When they finally calmed down, they were each wiping tears from their eyes.

Katara downed a cup of tea. “Spirits, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”

Iroh smiled, the mirth still dancing in his eyes. “Neither have we.”

Smiling back, she traced her fingers on the intricate ridges of the cup’s face. 

_This is nice. It almost feels like we’re all friends._

Lost in her thoughts, she vaguely took note of Iroh and Zuko having a quiet conversation.

 _Maybe we_ can _be friends._

She looked up as Iroh stood from his seat.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to what I’m sure will be a lengthy conversation. Zuko did promise to answer all your questions.”

The fire bender in question merely nodded his head.

“I’ll brew you both another pot and clean up the shop afterwards, so you two just sit right here.”

Folding his hands into his sleeves, the Dragon of the West bowed at the waist, sending Katara quietly sputtering and flushing once more.

“Words will never be enough for the favor you have granted us today, Master Katara. We are eternally grateful.”

With a lingering small smile, Iroh took his leave.

“Will he ever stop doing that?” she asked faintly.

Zuko chuckled, eyeing her with amusement. “I doubt it. But he means it— _I_ mean it. What you did was…” Trailing off, he took a shaky breath.

“What any healer would have done,” she finished his sentence for him.

The Prince shook his head, his lips formed into a contemplative frown. He seemed unaware of the words that next tumbled from them. “Not when the patient is an exiled Fire Nation prince’s child.”

Katara’s eyes widened. Had she been sipping on her tea, she had no doubt she would have promptly spit it out again.

“ _Child_?”

As if he was just making his way out of a trance, Zuko blinked distractedly at her. “What?”

She sucked in a breath. “You called Aiko your child.”

His eyes widened, even the one on the scarred side of his face. “I did?”

“Yes!” If her voice had taken on an incredulous tone, neither of them paid heed to it.

“Huh,” Zuko murmured, “I did.”

At the serene, almost awed tone in his voice, Katara’s brows furrowed. “Is Aiko—” she began, the words tripping over each other. “Is Aiko yours?” 

When confusion blossomed on his face in response, she quickly clarified. “Is she your daughter?”

Blood rushed in her ears as the question seemingly took form between them, the familial term like a physical weight. It was such a loaded question, and she didn’t know why she was nervous to hear his answer.

“Yes.” 

Katara suddenly felt light-headed at the admission, her heart beating ferociously. 

_What?! How is that possible? Is Aiko a love child? Who’s the mother? How did Zuko meet her? Does he love her? Why do I care? Why—_

Before her brain could go into overdrive, Zuko completed his statement. “But not biologically.”

_—Wait, what?_

Thoroughly perplexed, she stared at him until a flush crept up his cheeks.

He cleared his throat and grabbed his tea cup to fiddle with it in his discomfort at her stare. “It’s a really long story.”

Heartbeat slowing down, Katara inhaled deeply to collect herself. “I have time. Sokka can traipse around the house with a split down his pants for a little longer.”

Zuko let out a choked laugh at that, and she smirked in response.

“You don’t need to tell me,” she said softly a little while later, “but I would really like to know how everything happened. You know,” she shrugged, “Ease of mind and all that you didn’t steal her or anything.”

The Prince scowled, affronted at the implication of her taunt. “I didn’t steal her! I _found_ her.”

Katara’s lips pursed. “Like Momo found you?”

He titled at the comparison and nodded his head slowly. “Something like that.”

Watching him patiently, she poured them both another cup. Iroh came by to deposit a freshly brewed pot, and once he had gone, Zuko drew in a deep breath and began his tale.

“I guess I did promise you answers.”

Katara smiled encouragingly.

“When Uncle and I first arrived in Ba Sing Se, we had nothing except for the clothes on our back.” He paused with a grimace as he recalled those early days scrapping for food and begging for money. “It was unlike anything I’d ever gone through, and you could guess as to why.”

She nodded, fingers curling around the warmth of her cup. Her eyes never left his face, enraptured as she was by the soothing lulls in his voice.

“I lived my whole life as a pampered prince, entitled to the ease and privilege my status afforded me. Even when I was banished, I still had some luxuries at the ready, so I never really knew what it was like to be without. But during those first few weeks in the city, it was like my own personal hell come to life. I was no longer just a banished prince for what happened in the North, I was a traitor to the Fire Nation, too. All those factors combined, with Azula’s trickeries the cherry on top, made adjusting to living in poverty difficult—extremely difficult. It brought out the worst in me, and I’ll be the first to admit that I wasn’t very pleasant to be around.”

Katara hummed, a small smile playing at her lips.

Zuko chuckled as he caught sight of it. “I know, I know. I was even worse then, though. Unbearable, almost. It’s a wonder Uncle managed to put up with me.” Sighing wistfully, he took a sip of his tea before continuing.

“Somehow, Uncle managed to land us a job here at Pao’s, and while I was unhappy about it at first, it was a step up from living on the streets hungry and cold. It put more than just one set of clothes on our backs, gave us three meals a day, and allowed us to scrape enough money to rent a small apartment. It was honest work, and it was the first time in my life I learnt to earn my keep.”

There was pride in his voice there, and Katara couldn’t help but feel it spring forth within her, too. While she wasn’t the biggest fan of Zuko when they first met, hearing about the leagues he’d grown and the hoops he’d jumped through to get to where he was now certainly earned him points in her book.

“Besides,” he followed, an affectionate smile on his face. “Uncle was overjoyed to be surrounded by the thing he loves most in life—hot leaf juice.” They shared a chuckle at the joke. “I didn’t think I could complain.”

Watching him take another sip of his tea, she rested her chin on her hand. “So how did you find Aiko?”

“Mm,” he swallowed, “I was getting there.” A smirk flitted on his lips, and she really shouldn’t have been surprised when he quipped, “Patience, peasant.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and motioned for him to continue.

“Things quickly settled into a routine after that. We worked from morning till night, saved our gold, and kept to ourselves. Then one day, we had more customers than usual and I had to take out the trash even if it was just midday. That’s when I found her.”

A fond look settled over his features, and it struck Katara how young he looked when he wasn’t being weighed down by the pressures and stresses of the mantle that was his birthright or the mandate that was his honor-price to capture the Avatar. She shushed the voice in her head that whispered about how handsome he looked, too.

“Someone had left her in a box by the side door—her mother, probably—and she just sat there quietly, as if she was waiting for someone to find her.” 

They both heard what he didn’t say loud and clear. _Like she was waiting for me._

“The moment I saw her, she came alive. She began fussing excitedly, reaching for me and babbling, despite the fact that I was a stranger. Uncle thinks she may have been around seven to eight months at the time, so she wasn’t really speaking yet.”

Katara did the math in her head and inwardly conceded to Zuko’s earlier point that Aiko wasn’t a baby but a toddler.

“What did you do then?”

His cheeks colored at the question, and her brows climbed to her hairline. 

“Zuko,” she drawled, “what did you do?”

She didn’t think it was possible for him to redden any further, but at this point, his whole face was nearly as red as his scar. She had to strain to hear his embarrassed murmur, but it was worth the effort for what she heard next.

“I might have, uh, freaked… and maybe thrown the trash bag in front of her… and scampered back inside like a lost ostrich horse calling for Uncle…” 

A loud laugh burst from Katara’s lips, and he pouted in return.

“Zuko,” she gasped in between her hysteria, “you are the most helpless guy I’ve ever met.”

The Prince rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest petulantly. “You try finding a baby in your shop’s alley and have her be excited to see you!”

She gulped a lungful of air, amusement creasing her face. “Why wouldn’t she be excited to see you? You were probably the first person she saw in a while. ”

He frowned, his gaze dropping to the table in front of him. “People don’t usually smile when they see the scarred boy.”

A quiet gasp tore from Katara’s throat. _Oh._

Empathy surged through her and rolled off her in waves. Slowly placing a hand over his, she squeezed gently. She was pleased when he didn’t flinch or pull away. “Isn’t that the great thing about children, then? They see with their heart and not with their eyes.”

Zuko turned his head to look at her strangely. “Maybe you should stop drinking Uncle’s tea. You’re starting to sound like him.”

Giving his hand a last squeeze, she threw her head back in a giggle. “Maybe you should drink more. You could use the wisdom.”

He chuckled at that, and a moment of tenderness passed between them, much like it had in the backroom shortly before Iroh had interrupted. Zuko offered a small smile of thanks, and she grinned in return.

“What happened after you called for Iroh?”

“Well, he was in the middle of a conversation with Kimiko—she’s the lady who watches over Aiko while we’re at work—but I guess the more appropriate term would be _flirting_.” Zuko said the word with such vitriol, one would think it was a curse.

Katara smothered a laugh.

“I ended up going back out to the alley by myself, and Aiko perked up again when she saw me. For reasons I’ll never know, she took a liking to me. I guess I’ll have to be grateful to the spirits for that.” His voice quieted in contemplation, and he had a faraway look in his eyes. 

She let him have a moment.

“I eventually mustered up the courage to approach her, and when I was close enough, she reached for me, so trusting and so hopeful. I think I should have known that there was no returns then.”

Katara snorted at his choice of words.

 _As if you could return an abandoned baby. It’s not like there’s anyone to return her_ to _._

“Aiko was dirty and a bit impoverished, as if she had been left by herself for days before ending up in the alley, so I decided to bring her in to ask Uncle what we should do.” Zuko paused to look at her pointedly. “I know you’re gonna laugh at me for this, but the first time I tried to pick her up, I almost dropped her.”

She followed through on his guess, peals of laughter ringing in the quiet of the shop.

“Hey, I’ve never held a baby before! I think it took me three tries. I must’ve looked like a clueless fool.” Chuckling at himself, he shook his head. “Eventually, I got it right, and she—she sort of just curled up on me, and it felt as if something shifted in me, or at least began to. All the anger, all the hatred—they didn’t disappear, but they certainly dulled.”

If someone had told Katara a year ago that Zuko would be a captivating storyteller, she would have scoffed. But sitting here now, listening to him open up for what seemed like the first time in a long while, there was little she could do to keep from being captivated by his rasp and his words.

“After we cleaned her up and gave her something to eat, Uncle suggested we wait till nightfall to see if someone would come by and claim her. When no one did, he said we should take her home, at least for the night, and see if whoever lost her would come looking the next day. I was reluctant because I’ve never had any experience with kids, but I couldn’t say no to Uncle, not when he looked so happy to have a child to look after.”

He turned to Katara, an affectionate glimmer in his eyes. “He always wanted more kids. But my aunt passed away shortly after giving birth to my cousin Lu Ten, and then the war took Lu Ten, too.” His voice dropping to a quiet murmur, Zuko seemed to be talking more to himself than to her. “I guess that’s why he was always so intentional with me. He once told me that he saw me as his own son. Uncle—” he swallowed, as if the words were difficult to say, “was always more of a father to me than Ozai ever was.”

Katara felt a strong urge to gather this broken boy into her arms and hold him until he was no longer hurting. She suddenly longed for her father, wishing that he didn’t have to spend most of her childhood away from home.

The war left its scars on every one, and there was once a time she foolishly thought the Fire Nation citizens were immune to them, having belonged to the country that started it all. But the more of the world she saw and the more she encountered the people who fought against the raging of the war, the more she was beginning to understand that they, too, were victims as much as anyone else. Zuko, most especially.

A quiet fell upon them, shadows from where the sunlight streamed in prancing across their skin. In the afternoon glow, she felt the roots of their friendship begin to slowly grow.

“When we got home that night, Aiko refused to part with me.” A happy smile made its way across Zuko’s lips as he resumed his tale. “I think it had mostly to do with the fact that Uncle smelt too much like tea for her liking.”

They shared a laugh—it wasn’t too far off a guess.

“The next day, we brought her back here. The usual customers oohed and ahhed at the sight of her, but none of them looked at her with recognition.”

Katara felt her brows pull together and she interrupted him to ask a question. “Didn’t anyone find it suspicious that you and Iroh suddenly had a baby in your care?”

Zuko shook his head. “People in the Lower Ring know better than to meddle in other people’s lives. Most of us here are refugees trying to build a new life where we can, and there are more people than you’d think running away from one thing or another that can be found here. The Lower Ring is the place to be if you want to live a life of relative anonymity. The Middle and Upper Rings, though, are another story. It’s why we didn’t bring Aiko to any of the clinics there when she first got sick, even if quality medical care could only be found there.”

Katara frowned but said nothing. She knew what the Prince had said was true, her own experiences living in the Upper Ring with her friends coming to mind.

After taking a sip of his tea, Zuko poured her another cup and she nodded in thanks.

“Anyway, Aiko was still clinging to me like a koala sheep by the time I had to start working, so I set her down on a chair where I could keep an eye on her. Problem was, she somehow managed to get down. I didn’t notice at first, but then she was suddenly tottering after me, and this really burly customer we have, Chien, he didn’t see her and almost crushed her.”

Katara gasped but quickly found herself laughing when Zuko went on to recount how Chien repentantly apologized to the “wee baby” the fire bender had snatched up as quick as a koala sheep about to run itself off a cliff. It was hilarious to imagine, and Zuko assured her that in hindsight, it most certainly was.

“What happened next? Did anyone come by to claim Aiko?” she couldn’t hide her investment in the Prince’s tale if she tried, and she refused to be embarrassed when he grinned at her teasingly.

“If I’d known telling you stories was all it would take to get your guard down, I would have done so sooner to distract you long enough to snatch up the Avatar.”

Katara harrumphed, turning her head to hide the smile that was forming on her lips.

“To answer your question, no—no one came by looking for Aiko. But shortly after Chien left, I found out why.”

Raising her brows, she urged him to continue and to not leave her hanging.

Zuko chuckled at her antics, but his face quickly turned somber as he spoke again. “Kimiko had seen the whole thing, and she picked up on how clueless I was on how to deal with a baby. She offered to help look after Aiko while Uncle and I worked. She had grandchildren of her own, so she definitely had experience. I wasn’t about to say no to that.”

Katara nodded along.

“She asked me what Aiko’s name was, but at the time, I didn’t have any plans of keeping her yet, let alone have a name to give her. I told Kimiko of how I found Aiko the day before, and of how Uncle and I had hoped someone would come back for her. Kimiko looked troubled and told me that we would be waiting forever if that was the case.”

Katara sucked in a slow breath. She had a queasy feeling the story was about to turn south, and judging from the grimace that settled on Zuko’s face, she knew she was right to assume as much.

“Apparently, it’s not uncommon in the Lower Ring for babies around Aiko’s age back then to be left on the steps of random shops, in the mothers’ hopes that some bleeding-heart would take pity on the baby and either adopt them or bring them to foster homes in the Middle Ring.”

Katara felt dread inch its way down her spine. She knew the realities of war were grim, but hearing about it this way somehow made it worse.

_Could it get any worse than it already is?_

“The babies,” Zuko continued, “are usually born of ill circumstances.”

“What does that mean?” the confusion was evident in her voice, and the Prince filled his cheeks with air, as if to steel himself for what he was about to say next.

“The mothers are women who have been… coerced by Fire Nation soldiers. They abandon the babies because they can’t bear the trauma of what happened to them against their will staring them in the face.” He was all but whispering by the time he finished speaking, shame and guilt at yet another atrocity caused by his people painted across his face.

Bile rose in Katara’s throat and it was all she could do to keep from gagging.

_I was wrong. It’s definitely worse now. All those babies, all those women…_

As a terse silence hung in the air, she felt anger begin to work its way through her bones. Anger at the Fire Nation for ever having waged the war in the first place, anger at the repercussions of the war on the nations—on her, especially, anger at the soldiers who took and maimed and hurt and destroyed, and anger on behalf of the women who’ve had to suffer and struggle and hurt.

_This war has to end. The suffering has to end._

It wasn’t until Zuko concurred that she realized she’d spoken out loud. For a brief moment, she was tempted to unload her frustrations on the Prince—the _Fire Nation_ Prince. But the idea was gone before it could fully take root, and with it, the anger gave way to a crippling sadness.

Closing her eyes, Katara drew a fortifying breath and exhaled slowly. “It’s not your fault, Zuko.”

His gaze found hers, and the shame and guilt she found in his eyes were enough to drown a whole village.

“We’re all victims and pawns in this mad war, in one way or another. It isn’t your fault any more than it is mine. It’s only those who committed the heinous acts themselves and those who allowed the war to go on for as long as it has that should bear the brunt of the sins.”

He was still downcast. “It doesn’t feel that way sometimes,” he spoke lowly.

“I can see why you would feel that.” Katara reached out to clasp his hand once more. “But you can’t take the blame for something you didn’t do. You can only hope to do something to change things.”

His lips pressed into a thin, hard line, and she squeezed his hand tightly, trying to channel all of her understanding and support in the space between his palm and hers.

She doesn’t know how long they sat like that, suddenly tired and worn, but the shared grief between them made for a comfortable silence. The realization that they’ve come so far from enemies to hesitant friends brightens her spirits a notch.

_Who would have known? Perhaps the spirits aren’t through with us yet._

“We went home as a family that day.” Zuko breaks the quiet with a gentle press to her fingers. “I didn’t know it then, but we did. Father, son, and granddaughter.”

The words hung heavy yet oddly freeing between them.

“Uncle left the decision of keeping Aiko to me. I knew he wanted me to say yes, but a part of me was afraid—is _still_ afraid. All my life, I’ve had to struggle and fight, and although that’s made me strong, made me who I am, I couldn’t help but wonder if it made me calloused and irredeemable, too.”

Tamping down the urge to interrupt and argue that _no, you’re not irredeemable. You’ve changed. You’ve already redeemed yourself_ , Katara stroked her thumb over the curve of his warm hand in silent support.

Zuko smiled softly in response. “It was Aiko who showed me that maybe, just maybe, I could still change my destiny.”

Katara felt her heart swell at the sentiment in his voice, recalling briefly how Iroh had alluded as much all those days ago.

“Do you know why I named her Aiko?”

Katara shook her head. She knew he would tell her anyway.

“It’s a Fire Nation name that means ‘child of love’. When I was younger, my cousin Lu Ten told me that he would very much like to have a daughter and name her as such when the time was right. Love, he said, is the answer.” A sad smile tightens Zuko’s features. “His time never came.”

A deep sadness clouded his eyes, and Katara felt herself grieving for all that he had lost and endured.

“Love isn’t always the answer,” the Prince sighed, “but sometimes, it’s just enough to start again.”

When Katara looked into the golden depths of his eyes again, she found something she hadn’t seen in them before.

 _Hope_.

Tiny, flickering, and just starting to take root, but it was alive. And it set her soul alight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **long rambly notes ahead!**  
>   
>  on katara's reaction to aiko in the beginning: i wrote it the way i did because she's 16. even if she's war-honed and a master bender, she's still a girl on the cusp of womanhood. there are some things you'll never see enough of, least of all the effects of war.  
>   
> on zuko's condensed redemption arc: i hope i did it justice. i originally planned to write it in a flashback sort of way from his pov, but i eventually decided to write it in a campfire real talk sort of way to include katara's pov as well. i know atla is a kids' show, but i still wanted to delve into how the war left imprints all over the four nations and the people--even the fire nation citizens. additionally, there is no way zuko would have lived in the lower ring without being fully exposed to those realities, imo. i don't think he would have sat still about it either. the blue spirit might have started off as a means to avenge iroh, but you can't tell me zuko didn't eventually find true purpose in it as well.  
>   
> anyway, just wanted to say thanks for the outpouring of support. you all are amazing <3


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